Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovenia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Spoonie Gee to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Fall. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Gastr Del Sol,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ituana,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mummies,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lindisfarne,
Outsiders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crooked Eye,
Panda Bear,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
Slick Rick,
Magazine,
Pierre Henry,
Gichy Dan,
Pagans,
Lou Christie,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
H. Thieme,
Sugar Minott,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smiths,
Roger Hodgson,
The Wake,
X-Ray Spex,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Buzzcocks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers,
The Searchers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stiv Bators,
John Lydon,
Barrington Levy,
The Smoke,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Patti Smith,
The Birthday Party,
The Golliwogs,
Skarface,
John Coltrane,
Nas,
Subhumans,
Echospace,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stereo Dub,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-102,
Blake Baxter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spoonie Gee,
Barry Ungar,
The Residents,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.